


Duvet For The Nest

by Snowy_Rain



Series: Small WIPs [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha Tom Riddle, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Light Angst, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Harry Potter, Platonic Cuddling, Slow Burn, The “Sudden Appearance Of Omegaverse In Canon” Trope, To update or to not update, do not copy to another site, i love that, that is the question
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-01-31 08:02:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21442900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowy_Rain/pseuds/Snowy_Rain
Summary: Due to a virus that has escaped a top-secret laboratory, the humanity is suddenly mutated to have secondary genders. The Muggle governments do damage control along with the Wizarding World.Following canon after the first book.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Ron Weasley, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Luna Lovegood, and such - Relationship
Series: Small WIPs [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2051325
Comments: 41
Kudos: 417





	1. Outbreak

**Author's Note:**

> :P

It was four in the morning, most likely. The faded curtains stood light blue in the dawn light, and the bleak glow illuminated the room.

Harry laid on the bed listlessly, tired of sleep and frustrated. He had had a run in with Dudley’s gang last night - long story short, he was locked in his room until breakfast. Uncle Vernon had given the order so meekly, as though Harry could ever harm him.

He  _ really  _ was glad his uncle didn’t know about the Statue.

Tossing between the thin sheets, Harry huffed out a dusty breath. The air was lame and dry. He didn’t think his aunt ever aired the room since Harry went on to Hogwarts. 

Maybe he should go open the window. Merlin knew no one else would. He was burning up in here!

He stood up gently, joints aching after a restless night, and went to swipe open the curtains.

Mornings in Private Drive were the furthest things from what Harry would call  _ ‘an exciting time period’.  _ He had stood up late before, but there simply wasn’t anything to do with staying up after midnight. The nights were quiet, true, but the mornings were  _ even  _ quieter. Sometimes the old man in Number Six went for a stroll down the street, then Mrs. Figg went out to water her garden just to spy on the poor guy - Harry knew what she was doing, she wasn’t as sneaky as she thought - but other than that, there was only the birdsong fluttering around in the neighborhood.

Needless to say, it  _ really  _ was a weird morning. 

There was a small group of people running down the road, shouting - only vaguely recognizable through the glass - and a flip phone in one of their hands.

Harry’s heart beat faster, nervous and wary of this unexpected crowd. Were they wizards? No, they couldn’t be. Harry had never seen a wizard with a flip phone. They were probably just Muggles.

But what were they here for? At this ungodly hour? Yelling on the street?

He opened the window without further ado, curious to hear what was happening.

The hinges creaked as they swung inwards, finally letting in the sounds of the people.

“A doctor here?!” the woman cried. “The hospital isn’t answering! Please help!”

The door downstairs opened and Harry jolted in surprise. That was strange, he hadn’t heard Vernon stomp in the corridor!

“What on earth is going on!” he thundered to the group outside, his bathrobe tied tight under his plump belly. He looked rather ridiculous, if Harry had any say so. “In the morning too! Have you people gone  _ insane?!” _

A neighbor piped up, “Please, Mr. Dursley! Martha’s husband-“

“Matthew’s fevered,” the woman took over. “I tried to call the hospital, he was burning up! But they aren’t taking calls, there’s no one on the line!”

“So? Don’t you have emergency medicine?”

After that point, Harry got bored of the events and went back to bed. Flopping down onto the cool surface, he tried to fall back asleep unsuccessfully.

***

At a more acceptable hour, Harry woke up feeling rather dizzy. He wobbled away from the bed then flinched as a series of knocks rattled the door.

“Wake up!” Aunt Petunia called from the other side. Harry snarled wordlessly at her authoritative tone. “Get dressed! We’re going to the doctors!”

“Why?” he asked from his side. He was feeling weirder than usual. He had never been so argumentative in the mornings before. 

Well, he didn’t really see a reason not to be, though.

“ _ Why?”  _ Aunt Petunia repeated him. “ _ Why? Because!  _ The world’s turning even  _ more  _ freakish, and now all of you  _ heathens  _ are infecting us too!”

_ ‘What was that?’  _ Harry could only wonder as her footsteps went away. Shrugging, irritated, he decided he dress up anyway.

Once downstairs, he saw the Dursleys almost ready to depart. Vernon was straightening his tie, Petunia was touching up on her makeup and Dudley was… Dudley was just watching the television.

_ “The public outcry has reached the peak,”  _ a news anchor reported. That was odd too. Dudley never watched the news.  _ “Experts on the field report that this revelation might be the start of a new age-“ _

“Oh, Dudders,” Petunia sighed. Taking the remote, she turned off the television. “I told you not to worry - it’ll pass, I promise!”

“But  _ Mom,”  _ Dudley whined. Harry left for the kitchen to grab an apple, taking the chance to escape his cousin’s teary tantrum.

Something  _ really weird  _ was going on, and not only with the Dursleys. It had been a weird morning too - or was that a dream - and on top of that  _ Harry  _ was just so…  _ pissed! _

Harry was used to being mad at his relatives. The issue was  _ containing  _ it. He found himself itching to explode at them, to send a few mean spells to scare them. But that was wrong. It was  _ illegal.  _ And if he went to prison - maybe there was a wizard prison - he couldn’t go to Hogwarts.

So he would have to behave and bear it. It sucked but what else could he do?

***

The hospital was so very tightly-packed. On every seat sat at least one fevered, sweating person with a family member at their side. The Dursleys couldn’t take one step without bumping into someone.

“How long are we going to wait?” Dudley complained. 

“Don’t worry dear - not for too long. We’ll have a diagnosis and go.”

But the line was so long, even Aunt Petunia had a sour scowl on her face. Dudley cried and stomped, then tried to guilt-trip them, before Harry said, “Come on, it’s not like you can ditch a doctor’s appointment.”

“Can’t you?” Dudley muttered, thoughtful.

“I don’t know. Can you?”

“We can’t wiggle out of this, Dudley,” Petunia scolded. Turning to Harry, “You too. Stop influencing him!”

“I’m not doing anything,” Harry denied, but was gracefully ignored.

The line lasted a few more minutes, at last it was their turn.

“Mr. Dursley, Mrs. Dursley, your son and…”

“Our nephew,” Aunt Petunia filled in. “Harry Potter.”

“Of course. Will you all be going in? Please wait in the room and take turns seeing the doctor.”

They entered. The waiting room was mercifully empty, and Harry dozed off into a fitful nap as Dudley went on to get checked.

***

When he woke up, it was to the feeling of being shaken by a firm grip.

“Mr. Potter,” the man whispered soothingly. Harry sighed at the interruption of his dream.

“Please wake up, we’re going to start the check-up.”

“A’right.”

He was placed onto a high, long table and made to wear a thin gown. While teetering around with a sleep-addled mind, he thought to ask what was going on with all these people.

“Oh, you don’t know then,” the doctor exclaimed. “No worries. See, it seems those scientists on this one laboratory blew things up badly. There was a virus released which can multiply in quantity in air without any aid, and they said it changes human bodies.”

“Their…” Harry remembered the word. “DNAs?”

“Yes, precisely. This was all reported on the TV, didn’t you watch?”

“I’m not really interested in news,” Harry admitted with a shrug. The doctor looked as if he accepted that excuse and continued the examination.

“Please open your mouth?” he asked. “I’m going to collect you saliva now.”

Harry did he was asked, and the check-up was done in a short while. Feeling oddly nervous, he asked if his results were bad.

“Oh, don’t worry. Of course it isn’t bad,” the doctor tells him with compassion. “I’m going to share something with you: This test doesn’t really have a bad result for anyone taking it. We’re just trying to see what kind of changes were made in your genes.”

That relieved Harry a bit. Things had been a bit hectic today, so it was calming to hear everything was alright.

The doctor wrote him some medications to take.

“These are new on the medication market,” he told him. “I wrote some for your cousin as well, but his are a bit different. Yours are for those about to… Let’s say,  _ about to showcase the changes in your DNA.  _ The official term is  _ presenting.  _ If this goes on as it is, we will be ill-prepared to face the results of your presentation, because we don’t yet know what parts have changed. Do you follow?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course. There are three classifications so far: Alpha, Beta and Omega. So far we only have information on biological changes between those classifications, so we are required to request information on your behavior after your presentation, to see the neurological effects.”

“But you just said I shouldn’t present yet, didn’t you?” Harry questioned, suspicious.

“Yes, exactly. We are waiting for your results, so we can be prepared for your presentation. That is why.”

“I don’t know if I can ask but-“ Harry thought back to the people in the corridor, sweating buckets and reddened like firewood. “-is the fever because of presentations?”

“Oh!” The doctor blinked curiously. “You are very observant. Yes, essentially. So far, only Alphas have displayed this state of fever, but Omegas have also had problems during their presentations, so it’s unclear.”

“And Betas?”

“It seems they don’t have any issues at all, besides some changes in their hormone glands. Oh - Jesus. I’m telling all our findings to a kid! You’re a sneaky one,” the man winked good-naturedly. “But now I should check the other patients. Until next time! Take care and take your medicine!”

***

Harry left the doctor’s office with confusion in his mind, and a tangled web of thoughts in the forefront of his brain.

“Finally,” Petunia sniffed daintily. “What took you so long?”

“I was talking to the doctor,” he retorted, frowning. If Petunia didn’t shut up now, he was liable to leave dirt all over her carpets. “He said some things.”

“What things?” Dudley asked eagerly, despite Aunt Petunia’s look of disapproval. 

“Things. About this Alpha thing and such. He said something about a presentation.”

“He said that too!” the boy said. He was being unexpectedly excited. “That thing. He said I would present, later on. Mom, what does  _ ‘present’ _ mean?”

“It’s…”

Harry pitied her for a tiny second, watching her purse her lips as though she had sucked two juicy lemons whole.

“It’s a biology thing,” she settled on finally. “You either have it or you don’t, dear. Don’t worry too much about it.”

“I want to present!” Dudley declared, much to Petunia’s apparent mortification. “Why can’t I have it? I want it now!”

“The doctor said presenting without the check-up results is a bad thing,” Harry mentioned offhandedly. Merlin, Dudley really was being a big baby about it all. 

“He did?” Dudley mumbled. “Huh. He didn’t tell me anything about it. Why did he tell you?”

“Maybe because I was going to present soon.”

Harry knew, as soon as the words escaped his mouth, Dudley wanted to hit him with all his petulance. It was terrible of him, but he really wanted to laugh at his face.

“You’re going to _ present?”  _ Aunt Petunia repeated in horror. “Wait - he prescribed some pills for Vernon and I. Did he-“

“Yeah,” Harry cut off and gave his note to her. “Some things. He said these are new in the pharmacy.”

“I bet,” Uncle Vernon muttered darkly. “I hope you are grateful,  _ very  _ grateful; because doctor’s orders are doctor’s orders, and this is a mandatory thing. We’ll buy them.”

Harry nodded, keeping his head low. Vernon seemed satisfied with his posturing, so they went back to the car.

***

To tell the truth, Harry didn’t feel much different after his visit to the hospital. Neither did life in Private Drive, Number Four. His relatives continued life as it had always been, and Harry did his own thing.

There was one thing different, however.

“BOY!” Uncle Vernon shouted downstairs. “It’s one of yours! And tell her to not call again!”

“Yes, Uncle Vernon,” Harry would murmur every time the man demanded that.

But - of course - he wouldn’t stop Hermione from calling if his life depended on it.

“Hi,” he breathed out, cheerful. “How are things?”

_ “Harry!”  _ Her smile could be heard through the call.  _ “Did you get the news?” _

“Of course,” he scoffed. “I’m not  _ that  _ blind.”

_ “I swear you  _ ** _are_ ** _ , sometimes,”  _ she muttered, exasperated.  _ “But never mind. I got my results!” _

“Oh!” He shifted his legs. “Congratulations! What did you get?”

_ “Beta! It seems that on the secondary gender spectrum, they are the only ones without heats or ruts!” _

“What’s all that?” he asked. 

_ “Merlin, I forget you don’t go to the library - you know there are computers there? You can look up all sorts of fascinating things. Apparently the governments decided the Alpha-Omega debacle was too important to not warn the public of, so they gave the libraries free access to the laboratory’s findings.” _

“And the heat thing? The fever?” Harry asked her.

_ “Yes, I was getting to that.”  _ She shifted in her place and some rustling noises came from the line.  _ “Ruts and heats are like… Periods. Do you know about them?” _

“No, is it important?”

_ “For girls, I guess. Anyway - a rut is what an Alpha experiences once a month. It’s like a fever and it can last from three days to a week. During this time you… sort of get cuddly?” _

“Huh?”

_ “Yeah, that’s what I thought too!”  _ She snorted.  _ “It all sounds like a bunch of bull, but this is the stuff scientists say so it must have some blobs of truth in it. For an Alpha, it seems, the rut is a sensitive time and they are especially vulnerable during it. This is also why an Omega is preferred to be the cuddle mate, because their ‘smell’,”  _ she stressed on the word, as if ridiculing it.  _ “Is comfortable to the Alpha. But Betas - since they are seen as reliable, protective people; not to mention their scent is ‘soothing’ - are also good choices, it seems. Now, another Alpha poses some issues because of the mutual need of comfort, but it looks like there have been times it has worked-“ _

“Merlin, Hermione, take a breath at least,” Harry interrupted. “Look, I don’t really understand what this smell thing is either, okay? Please explain first.”

_ “Oh, sorry Harry. I got excited.”  _ She certainly sounded enthusiastic.  _ “But moving on, the smell I’m talking about it a body’s natural  _ ** _pheromones, _ ** _ which are like the tiny particles of your hormones I guess. It has existed way before the virus broke out, they say, but our capability of sensing it has increased. Now you can see people actually smelling like vanilla without using a perfume.” _

“So it’s like the accessory to the crisis?” Harry thought out loud, snickering at his own joke.

Hermione laughed a bit too.  _ “Basically. Oh, I didn’t ask you. Did your results arrive yet?” _

“It’s supposed to come today, I think,” he answered simply, rather than saying he is in the queue. “But whatever, the Dursleys got me suppressants so I’m fine. I can manage without knowing for some more time.”

_ “Well, I suppose,”  _ Hermione said. He could imagine her rolling her eyes.  _ “Oh, are you in trouble with your uncle, Harry? He sounded angry. I could hang up.” _

“No, this is fine,” he spoke quickly. He wanted to talk with her a bit more. “We’ve got at least another ten minutes.”

_ “Good!” _

***

“What’s a heat though?”

_ “An Omega’s rut, essentially,”  _ she summarized.  _ “But with a lot more nuances. Omegas don’t become vulnerable - they become feral. You know how a mother animal protects her baby and all that? And how wolves mark their territory and such?” _

“Omegas  _ piss  _ on their doorstep?” Harry exclaimed, disgusted. 

_ “What? No! I said it’s  _ ** _like _ ** _ that, not  _ ** _exactly_ ** _ that!” _

“Ah, okay then.”

_ “An Omega  _ ** _nests,_ ** _ ”  _ Hermione emphasized.  _ “Nesting is when you get yourself soft blankets and pillows and mattresses - then make one huge nest which you deem your territory and no one but people you choose can go into it. I think the nests are semi-permanent too, you sometimes remake them but they usually stay there forever after your presentation.” _

“It sounds nice, to be honest,” Harry mused. “Not like I could make one, if I was an Omega. I’ve got barely enough to keep me covered in the cold.”

_ “I really, really don’t like your uncle, Harry,”  _ Hermione sneered, it seems, from the sound coming off the phone.  _ “Not just him! I can’t believe they are so - so… negligent!” _

“It’s okay,” Harry shrugged. Whoops, Hermione couldn’t see the gesture. “I’m used to it. And I’m at Hogwarts most of the year anyway.”

_ “Still!” _

“BOY!” comes Uncle Vernon’s bellowing. “Time’s up! Back to your room!”

“Oops, I gotta hang up Hermione,” Harry whispers urgently. “See you!”

_ “You too! Call later!” _


	2. Abnormal Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry deals with an unnatural fever and an interesting fact about his secondary gender is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oddly, I have to say — this fic has climbed up in my subscription statistics in record time. So here you go, a gift for the show of appreciation.

On a particularly hot day, Harry was out weeding out the garden. The sun shone as merciless as a slave master with a whip in hand. The image was funny, but Harry’s sunburn was much less funnier. 

Whenever he tried to be sneaky and use the hose, Dudley started playing with it — which was extremely infuriating. Harry was burning up and he was willing to drag and  _ throw Dudley _ to get to the water.

“You want water, Potter?” Dudley teased, holding the hose just in reach before pulling it away. Surprisingly, the buffoon seemed to have learnt Harry’s last name. “Well, you can’t have it!”

“If you do it one more time—“ Harry snarled and gripped the hoe tight. “—maybe I’ll do some magic.”

Dudley flinched and that was it — the hose was falling, falling onto the dry soil. With agility he didn’t know he had, Harry sprang from his spot to grab it.

“Hey!” Dudley whined. “Mom! Harry took the hose from me!”

Aunt Petunia’s face, like a creepy version of a submarine’s watcher, appeared on the window. She looked sour as she always did whenever Harry was mentioned.

“Ignore him, Diddykins,” she called. “He’s just trying to make you angry! Don’t react to him. Remember your teacher’s words!”

Dudley, despite Harry’s doubts of its actual credibility, had gotten a reprimand from some of his teachers because of bullying earlier in the year. Aunt Petunia had complained about it during the first summer days, saying how “unfair and unfit it was for her lovely son.”

Yeah. And Harry was the Minister of Magic.

Dudley pouted but went silent, waddling back in to get an ice pop. Harry was glad because watching his cousin’s huge fats jiggling was kind of disgusting. Without further ado, he turned opened the water flow and drank to his heart’s content. It was a relief to know he wasn’t dying anymore — the fluid was clear, cool and fresh; Harry could even feel the pain of his sunburn lessening. 

The heat was still unbearable. He was itchy, dirty from the mud and sweaty all over. He needed a bath, but he wasn’t sure if Petunia would allow it in daytime. He was usually only permitted in the bathroom after all of them used it, in the evenings. And even then, he couldn’t stay too long.

But… a quick, cool shower wouldn’t be so bad, would it? They certainly wouldn’t dare throw him in the cupboard, not while they still thought he could curse them.

_ Okay.  _ He was doing this.

***

He finished up with the gardening before sneaking upstairs. Petunia was preparing to go to her book club, a bag of pastries and treats at her arm. Dudley was still in the house, but Aunt Petunia was convincing him to visit Piers Polkiss, his lackey — according to her, Duddy’s  _ friend.  _

He climbed the stairs — he was careful, there was that creaky step that was fairly tricky. After that obstacle was over with, he could finally go into the bathroom.

Oddly, this was the chilliest room in summertime. Harry had never questioned it before, but he had to admit it was colder than he had thought it would be. Shrugging off his dirty clothes, he climbed into the cubicle and switched on the water.

The spray gushed out. The water was cold —  _ too cold.  _ He flailed around trying to turn it warmer, yet even though the hot water was supposed to come, it didn’t get much scorching.

Sighing with a shudder, he resigned himself to a lukewarm wash. He used some of Dudley’s shampoo — it concealed body odour much better than Petunia’s ever did. Harry could always trust his cousin’s bath products.

Turning off the flow, he watched as the spray trickled to a stop and leaked away into the drain. He used a hand towel to dry his body and quickly ran to his room after dressing up.

***

_ Hot,  _ was the only thing he could think of. Mind dizzy and still fogged over by the veil of sleep, Harry tried to go back to dreaming; only to be roused again. With a sigh of mild frustration he propped himself up with his elbows.

He wasn’t doing anything in particular. Watching the faded blue curtain, watching Hedwig napping in her cage, staring into empty space with a head full of cotton… He breathed in and out in time with the waves of heat and chill, respectively. When one came, the other left — like a vicious cycle but much more sickening.

Was he going to throw up? He didn’t think so. It was only slight nausea, mostly mixed with a nondescript stomachache. His whole body was flushed and trembling, muscles taut and ready to spring up in a moment’s notice.

Standing up, he tried to figure out what was wrong, what  _ felt  _ wrong. Nothing was. He was just a bit out of sorts, just a bit feeling under the weather. He glanced back at the curtains. The tint of blue welcomed him. It was dawning hours.

Harry pulled a drawer near the windowsill and sat on it. There was nothing to do but watch the hours pass, with the breeze caressing his cheeks and between the strands of his hair.

A sluggishness settled upon him and he crossed his arms under his chin, closing his eyes and listening to the swish of the wind and the ruffling of tree leaves. The birds would not be awake for until another hour or so, when the sky got pinker and bluer.

Without any notice, he fell asleep again right in front of the window.

***

Harry woke with a start.

“Boy!” Aunt Petunia was calling behind the door. “You forgot your prescription! Are you presenting? You’re stinking up the whole house!”

_ Presenting? _

Had he really forgotten his medication?

_ Oh,  _ Harry remembered with dawning horror.  _ I went straight to my room after the shower. _

“Can I have it now?” he asked her, voice raspy. 

“No can do. It’s started now,” she told him. “You have to deal with it — it’s your fault for skipping the suppressant, you need to learn to handle the consequences of your actions!”

He was half-listening to her, nodding along despite knowing she couldn’t see it. “Okay. But what am I? It — It doesn’t feel like fever but I’m not feeling like nesting either.”

She was silent for a long time after that. After a few minutes, Harry guessed she had left and went back to resting.

***

Aunt Petunia left him his meals that day. He was strangely comforted by her rare kindness.

During the times he had to  _ answer nature's call, _ Harry tried his best to waddle to the toilet and back. His legs felt like they were strung by a torture machine and cramped without stop. If he had to describe it he’d say it was like someone was pushing all the muscles of his calves into the bone, and compressing them without mercy. It was highly painful and he couldn’t stop the whimpers that escaped his mouth. 

Once Dudley found him crawling pathetically to the bathroom, he took Harry’s arm over his shoulders and carried him to the destination.

“Thanks,” Harry said reluctantly.

Dudley shrugged. “It’s nothing. You looked sick there.”

“I kind of am.”

“You are presenting aren’t you?” his cousin asked, surprisingly coherent. “You smell weird, and your skin feels like fire.”

“Smell?”

Dudley scrunched up his nose and made a general gesture, saying, “You know. Just a weird thing. Like you’re not right.”

Harry tried to understand what Dudley was trying to say, but he didn’t really know what he was talking about. He  _ did  _ remember Hermione’s talk about pheromones, but it didn’t really explain how Dudley could smell the presentation on him. 

Did that mean presentations always smelled? Even to unpresented people? That was strange. Harry hadn’t noticed anything pungent in the air in the hospital.

“Yeah.” Harry decided to leave it at that. “I’m presenting.”

“Mom says you didn’t take your suppressant.”

“I forgot it,” he defended.

Dudley rolled his eyes but didn’t press on, waiting for him to finish his business. Harry zipped up and limped back to the door, letting Dudley half-carry him to his room.

“Thanks again,” he told him. “That was very chivalrous of you.”

Dudley made a face and quickly went back downstairs.

***

Later that day, the results of his diagnostic arrived.

“It says  _ omega  _ here,” Petunia informed him, skimming the report. “But that shouldn’t have happened. You’re feverish, aren’t you? That’s not from typical omega symptoms.”

“Maybe I’m just freakish,” Harry said, rolling his eyes inwardly.

She shook her head. “No, that’s not what I mean. Dudley told me what happened. The scientists at the laboratory had never documented muscle cramping, other than in the abdomen. Should we…” She paused. “Should we call a doctor?”

Harry was struck dumbfounded by her new behavior. Why was she being so generous? Why now?  _ But,  _ he decided.  _ I can’t be a gift horse in the mouth.  _

“Sure,” he answered her. “That’d be good.”

Aunt Petunia nodded, then left for the telephone.

***

“Something seems to be out of order,” Doctor Burns muttered, examining Harry’s situation. “I would like to ask a few personal questions, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure.”

“If you would be so accommodating, could you please leave the room for a while, Mrs. Dursley?”

Aunt Petunia did as asked.

Burns settled onto the bedside. “Now, Harry, I would like you to answer honestly.”

“Okay?”

“Have you ever felt  _ unsafe,”  _ he emphasized. “In this house or around your relatives?”

What did that have to do with anything?

Racking his brain, Harry  _ did  _ in fact remember times he was afraid and on-guard. He nodded in affirmation.

“Ah.” Doctor Burns sighed, face twisting unpleasantly. “You see, Harry: There’s information that hasn’t been released to the public, which is that sometimes omegas exhibit rut symptoms — fever, muscle cramping, feelings of vulnerability and dizziness. This is usually triggered by a lack of materials to build the nest, which I can clearly see is one of your problems—“ He looked at him meaningfully. “—but it is also a result of distrust against one’s housemates. Which means you do not view this place as your  _ home.” _

Harry nodded, flushing a bit under the gaze of the man. He was drowning under self-consciousness, it felt alien to be under intense scrutiny.

“Do you have alternative accommodations?” the doctor asked. “Mrs. Dursley told me you go to a boarding school. Do you have any close friends from there? We could give you special permission to stay with them instead of the Dursleys. Presentations are difficult after all — and it wouldn’t do to make them harder than they need to be.”

“I… Really?”

He confirmed with a nod. “Of course. Mind, this option only becomes available during the presentation. Which excludes your next heats, so you will have to find some way to deal with them. Do you have any way to make this room more comfortable for yourself? Maybe installing a lock to the door? It could help. Additionally, some other linens and cotton blankets are in order—“

Doctor Burns gave him a whole list of things to do and things to buy. Harry grimaced at the image of Uncle Vernon’s face in his mind, enraged at the notion of _buying_ things to _make_ _Harry_ _comfortable. _

_ He’d blow a gasket,  _ Harry guessed.  _ I suppose I’ll just buy my own while I’m with the Weasleys, for next year. _


	3. Friction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Burrow, Lucius' troubles, and Neville's dilemma.

“Oh, Harry!” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed as she embraced him. He could instantly smell the pheromones on her: spicy herbs, warm honey and fresh bread. Harry sighed in contentment, hugging back. “How you’ve grown! Still tad skinny but we’ll make sure to feed you. Now—“

She let go of him and took a hold of his shoulders. “Are you ready to go?”

“Absolutely!”

The car was a blue Ford, filled to the brim with Weasleys. Harry flushed as he took in the sight of their happy faces.

_ Are they really so glad to see me? They even came to pick me up with their parents. _

“Harry!” Ron greeted, scooting over to make room. “Come in! Man, this is gonna be so cool!”

“Less talking—“

“—more moving, dear brother!” 

The twins were grinning wide, eyes bright and their scents light like milk. The variety of smells were dizzying, at times, but Harry found that it got better as he got used to them.

The instant he got on, the exhaust pipe farted and the car sped up, going directly forward — Harry turned around to watch Private Drive get smaller and smaller, until it was a mere speck behind the window.

“So,” Fred started. “What’s our Boy Wonder up to now?”

“Nothing much,” Harry said as he shrugged. “My aunt called a doctor though, did Mrs. Weasley tell you that?”

“Doctor?”

“Like Muggle healers?”

“What’s a healer?” Harry asked back.

“A Wizarding doctor, in a sense,” Mr. Weasley answered for him. “Don’t pester Harry too much, boys! He’s going to stay the summer after all. Plenty of time.”

“Bloody hell!” the twins chorused, their smiles getting even bigger.

Mrs. Weasley’s scent got heavier and she called out,“Mind your language!”

The whole ride was a dream come true. At some point, Mr. Weasley pulled to a solitary road and pushed a button, before  _ taking flight!  _ Harry was completely mesmerized, asking questions about the mechanisms and listening to Mr. Weasley’s ramblings.

“It’s a huge web of enchantments,” the man explained. “You probably haven’t learned them at school yet. Darling, which year was—“

“They are beginning their second, Arthur.”

“Of course, of course. Well, you will most likely learn these in your final year! These are binding enchantments, ones you use to link charms together. It requires a truly  _ massive _ amount of power to stick.”

“You really did everything by yourself then?” Harry asked, fascinated. Could he make his own flying car when he got older?

“Certainly not! I am good at Charms, but my lovely Molly helped quite a lot with some experiments.” He blew a kiss in his wife’s direction. “I couldn’t have done it without her help!”

_ “Arthur.” _

“Shame she doesn’t approve of it,” Mr. Weasley remarked, winking at Harry offhandedly. With the focus back on the road (the sky?) Harry turned back to the twins and Ron for conversation.

***

The Weasleys’ house was rather interesting, with winding tree roots and strange tools all over the place. Harry loved the oddities of it, the way everything was so obviously  _ magical.  _ Weasley’s house was a total opposite of Private Drive — they  _ embraced  _ the differences. They  _ encouraged  _ the weird.

Harry also met Ginny, Ron’s only sister. She was the youngest of the family and a year behind Harry. He tried to talk to her, but she always ran away with a red face. He couldn’t decide if she was angry or sad, with the way her scent…  _ twisted?  _ What was the word? He was still unsure about how pheromones worked, besides the fact that they gave information about the person’s nature and current state. He could sense something reminiscent of cherries and something  _ crunchy  _ and  _ savory,  _ but he had no clue what it was.

“You can sense it?” Mrs. Weasley had repeated when he asked her. “Ah, of course. You have already presented. I  _ do  _ agree that it smells like cherries, but what I pick up on is the smell of…  _ autumn leaves.” _

“Really?”

“Oh, yes. An advice from me, Harry: I don’t believe smells are universal. For me, when I scent my children, I am reminded of the fall season and warm meals, of dark storms and the aroma of delicious mead. For Arthur, it’s very different. The way he scents is more akin to feeling a glimpse of memories — like the emotion of a moment. Smells are never always smells, and there’s no way to categorize them into parts.

“Do you understand now  _ why  _ it is so hard to guess emotions? There’s no sure way to know what someone is feeling. A bit of familiarity with the person can help, but I doubt it will do much good. Why don’t you simply ask her, dear?”

Harry thought it was sound advice. It  _ made  _ sense. It was like Petunia’s sharp nose and Dudley’s deaf sense of smell. No two people could smell the same.

He decided he would try to talk to Ginny when the opportunity showed itself.

***

Lucius Malfoy was in a bit of a  _ tight spot. _

He knew that the Ministry was planning a raid for Dark artifacts, but he had not expected it to happen so soon. His guess had been that it would be around August or so — certainly not in the  _ middle of July.  _ He was forced to empty out his house immediately.

When he arrived to  _ Borgin and Burke’s,  _ his possessions were met with a welcoming enthusiasm. However, when he presented the black covered notebook his Lord left for safekeeping, Borgin practically  _ kicked him out of the store.  _ The  _ nerve  _ of that man! If Lucius was not so  _ pressed _ to act quickly, he would have made sure to leave an anonymous tip at the Ministry to get revenge on this establishment.

He rushed through the alleys, trying to find some solution. What to do,  _ what to do?  _ He was running out of time, sweat drenching his forehead. Taking out a handkerchief with what elegance he could manage, he dabbed the fabric all over his cheeks, his temples and above his lips. This was getting worse and worse. He found himself tapping his walking stick to a rhythm as he watched the crowds rumble by, unaware of the troubles that threatened to overcome him. 

If he could not hide it, he wondered with a sort of trepidation, would they arrest him?  _ Could  _ they sense the darkness of the object? Lucius certainly did, he was intimidated by the rivulets of  _ cunning _ that suffused the book.

_ What could this be? What is it that the Dark Lord gave my father? Why was it in our drawer and not somewhere else? _

What _could _be important enough to be hidden by _the_ _Dark Lord?_

Then, scheming, his mind whispered to him. The temptation of an easy out drew him in.

_ There’s a bill about to pass,  _ it coaxed, gentle.  _ Weasley is a problem. His strongest supporter is  _ ** _Longbottom. _ ** _ We could surely…  _ ** _benefit _ ** _ from this? _

_ Oh,  _ Lucius realized, with relief and sheer desperation —  _ Longbottom  _ was out shopping for school supplies and his handbasket looked big enough to hide an inconspicuous  _ book _ in. 

At once, Lucius’ heart sped up;  _ the movements necessary for the maneuver, the required distance and even the right amount of force to knock the boy back _ — everything became clear, as if watching through a glass case. Without even thinking, he got into the boy's path and bumped into him; the momentum threw the basket out of his grip.

_ Excellent. _

“Longbottom,” he greeted. “Clumsier today, are we? Watch where you’re going.”

“Sor-Sorry, Mr. Malfoy,” the boy stuttered, trying to put everything back into the basket.

Lucius summoned the basket into his hand, packing the supplies back in with another spell. This let him sneak in the book inside as well —  _ well done. _

“Take it,” he told the boy and he scrambled to grab the handle. Lucius held it tight, however, and leaned into the boy’s face. “Look straight ahead instead of staring at your  _ shoes.  _ Some friendly advice to you.”

“Yes—“ The boy shook like a leaf in the wind. “Yes, Sir.”

Afterwards, Lucius let Longbottom walk away.

When he was finally alone in the crowd, surrounded by strangers, he allowed himself a small smile, a smile of  _ victory. _

_ I  _ ** _win_ ** _ . _

***

When Neville got back to the cottage, he noticed an extra book in his basket. He was perplexed and of course, he didn’t know where it came from. For curiosity’s sake, he opened the first page and looked it over.

Nothing much. A usual notebook — a  _ diary,  _ more like. It didn’t seem particularly interesting or useful aside from the potential to become a homework planner.

Because he wasn’t worried, he checked the rest of his supplies and piled them into his trunk to stay fresh until September 1th.

When he went back to the black diary, he saw a curious little scrawl at the bottom corner of the cover. 

_ ‘Tom Marvolo Riddle’ _

Perhaps the fellow had dropped it in his basket accidentally?  _ That might be why,  _ Neville rationalized. He went ahead and dipped his quill into the ink, then etched the date on the dull yellow paper.

But he jumped back, seeing the ink vanishing from the surface without any stain leftover. The paper trembled a bit, then  _ ink scrawled back up, completely different. _

_ Hello,  _ it said.  _ To whom am I writing? _

Neville, because he was sensible and unwilling to risk anything, closed down the cover without much fanfare.

This was…  _ unexpected.  _ He didn’t think he would be conversing with a sentient diary this evening. But — hey! Whatever life threw at him, he could probably handle. This wasn’t as bad as his presentation.

“Okay,” he murmured to himself, wry. “So I’m doing this. I hope I don’t regret anything.”

He pulled open the cover and started scribbling.

_ I’m Neville,  _ he wrote.  _ What are you? _

The pages had a slight shiver.  _ A memory trapped within pages. You are quite the straightforward person, are you not? _

_ I would rather you did not talk to me about anything other than my homework. _

The diary paused, as if incredulous. Starting again slowly, it wrote,  _ Excuse me? _

_ You are my homework planner. I don’t have anything else to use right now, so I’ll be using you. Please bear with it. I don’t suppose you’ll run out of pages? _

_ I am a sentient being living in a diary and you wish to use me as a  _ ** _homework planner_ ** _ ,  _ the diary grouched with doubly underlined words.  _ As for your question, no. I can store everything. This situation is something akin to a ‘borrowed brain’, isn’t it? You use my memory for your assignments and — well. I don’t think I have any advantages in this relationship, do I? _

_ And you aren’t going to,  _ Neville answered. His hands shook a bit but he wasn’t overly nervous. He knew what to expect from entities he didn’t know the designations of.  _ So for now, I’m just going to write down my daily schedule. Could you please write it back when I request it? _

... _ I suppose. _

He took a deep, relieved breath and jotted down his lessons. At least he wouldn’t be ailed by his forgetfulness anymore.

***

"Ginny," Harry called after dinner, watching the girl curl into herself. "Can we talk?"

She didn't answer immediately, merely deemed it more rewarding to stare at him -- but the catcalls from the twins did it and she snapped, "Would you  _ quit _ it, you two?!"

"Never!"

Huffing and puffing in anger, her face grew scarlet. She stomped the floor and ran upstairs.

"Merlin's fishy pants, what's up with her?" George --  _ or was it Fred  _ \-- teased. "You'd think she wasn't stalking our new baby omega." 

"I'm not a baby," Harry said but his complaints were heard and crudely ignored.

"And what do you mean stalking me?" he asked them. "I've never seen Ginny around."

"That's 'cause she'd rather observe through keyholes--"

Mrs. Weasley smacks him with a newspaper.  _ "Fred. George. _ You two have Gnome duty today!"

_ "Mom!" _

"Don't  _ 'Mom'  _ me, you hellions! Either stop making fun of your sister or go do something productive."

"She's been light on us recently," Fred whispers conspiratorially to Harry. "George and I believe it's because of sparkling magic omega pheromones in the air.  _ Thank you, _ our lord and saviour!"

"Or should we call it  _ Miraculous Sparkling Magic Omega Pheromones?" _

A stinging hex zaps them both and they scramble to get to the backyard.


End file.
